


Miners on a spacecraft

by Awsumatid



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Capitalism, Centripetal force, Character death will happen in later chapters, Copper - Freeform, Corrupt business practices, Explosions, First Sherlock Holmes fic, Friends to Lovers, Just having a good time with classic characters that I love, M/M, Murder on a train trope but in space, My astronomy major brother is assisting me with the science, No smut so far, Not a sadfic but will have emotional moments, Not especially angsty, References to books and current fanfictions, Sci Fi AU, Somewhat hard Sci fi, Space miners, responsible alcohol use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 14:00:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11487837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awsumatid/pseuds/Awsumatid
Summary: The Americans had built this ship to explore for living space, living organisms, and mineral riches. After some years of use, they sold it to us for chump change. It was a fresh start for the many of us, including my own dreams of working as a doctor.My ears were ringing, I was running, grabbing onto the arm of fellow underling, Sherlock Holmes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a big fan of the acd books, and they are an inspiration for every dream, daydream, and story I write. However, I use a lot of aspects from the TV show when writing about modern/future time periods, or my private parent fiction with Rosie. I write this because it makes me happy, and I am open to all constructive criticism (I'm an art major, I can take it). This has only been beta read by myself and my friend who does not read often at all. If you notice any errors, correct me! I hope you enjoy.

Our ship was once the envy of the world, Including the UK. The Americans had built it to explore,  to find living space, living organisms, and Mineral Riches. After some years of use, they sold it to the uk, for chump change. It was a fresh start for many of us, including myself, who had always wanted to work as a doctor. The Europa mining company bought a contract with the government to use the ship for mining expeditions and hired all thirty of us and blasted us out into space.

I was running, grabbing onto the arm of fellow underling Sherlock Holmes, pulling him along as he laughed. The explosives set off behind us, and though I wanted to duck and cover I knew our only chance was to run to the make-shift base. My ears were ringing, my legs were fueled by nothing other than adrenaline, and it took me far too long to realize that I was laughing as well. Laughing because of how ridiculous the situation I had found myself in was. The air smelled like fresh dirt and rotten eggs, and my companion was soaking it up. I’ve heard of stopping to smell the roses but now was not the time to sniff the sulfur.  
Security officer Nevan Conner spotted us and I saw him go grey as a goose, eyes growing wide. He frantically waved us over, as if we weren’t already booking it towards him. Lestrade started to run towards us as if to retrieve us, but then remembered the explosives and ran right back behind his cover. If I hadn’t been laughing before, I surely was laughing right then. Conner shouted into the building and soon the whole security team and half the medical staff came running outside to see us fleeing the mining grounds.  
We rushed forward and didn’t stop until we had made a small dent in the crowd from running into it. Suddenly the base erupted in cheers, Molly ran inside and brought us both a beer each.  
“For relaxing your muscles, and celebration, I suppose.” She said cheerily around the cheering of our fellow crew members. I could see the ship on the horizon, shining in the light, reflecting the orange of the explosions as they finished off behind us.  
I looked back at Sherlock and saw him laugh before gulping down the whole bottle. “You know, I think we should save this, we won’t be getting more of this any time soon, and we should save it for celebrations.” I said to her, trying to push the bottle back into her hands.  
“What better reason could we have to celebrate than the survival of the Brave John Watson and fellow man of the hour Sherlock Holmes!” Lestrade exclaimed before clapping me on the back.  
I shrugged, smiled at our crew, and downed the drink right then and there. What can I say, the run had me parched.  
Sherlock opened his expedition bag to show off the items he had saved from the blasts. You see, we were mining in that whole area, and that very morning we were setting off explosives to help in the process, and that’s when I noticed Sherlock missing from breakfast. Curious, I checked the men’s quarters but, he was not there either. Nervously I checked the women’s quarters, Just in case, but he was nowhere to be found.  
Just as realization dawned on me, I sprinted over to the mining sight and found Sherlock lazily packing the picnic basket a few of us had shared the night before, as well as a few scientific instruments he had brought with him. Panic-stricken, I grabbed him and ran him out of the blast zone. I really do think he’s at _least_ half-mad.  
Sherlock handed out the items he had retrieved from the site, and when he gave molly her hairbrush, she blushed and said “Thanks for thinking of me” and brushed it through her hair like a fawning school girl yearning for his affections.  
“Really Molly,  I was more thinking of myself, you get dreadfully crabby when your hair is frizzy and I’d like to have access to your lab equipment.”  
She looked wearily over to me and I leaned in to whisper “maybe he’s just playing hard to get?” and then pulled back with a shrug of my shoulders, secretly hoping molly wouldn’t actually get her hopes up.  
“Oh but I should really check to see if you two have any injuries, shouldn’t I?”  
“Well, I could check Sherlock, save time, you know how impatient he is.”  
“I am standing right here John, Honestly. Is that really what you think of me?” Sherlock scoffed.  
I stifled a laugh in favor of an eye-roll, before grabbing him by the arm and walking into the medical area, expecting molly to follow.  
She inspected me quietly while I inspected Sherlock. “You have a bruise on your arm, sorry, and I think you’ve lost a toe, but other than that you just need a good wash” I joked.  
“But the side of my rib hurts” he said.  
“Sherlock, It’s nothing. Probably just psychosomatic.”  
“You’re one to talk!”  
“What do you mean by that?”  
“That limp is clearly psychosomatic, you didn’t limp at all when we were running.”  
“Excuse me, I actually got shot”  
“Well there were explosives going off all around me.”  
I shook my head and smiled at him. Often times I’d find myself looking at him absent mindedly, not paying attention to anything, just enjoying his presence. He’d always notice and snap me out of it by telling me to look at what he was trying to show me. This time, it was a scrape on his knee.  
“How did you get that? I’ll get the Soap, water, and Neosporin.”  
“Do you really not have anything more advanced?”  
“Don’t need to get out the good stuff for this.”  
I rinsed off his knee with soap and water, and let that dry for a bit. He kept looking away from me while I waited for it to dry, and I realized it was because I was kneeling right in front of him. I coughed and rubbed the Neosporin onto his knee.  
“did the dirt effect your lungs, dr. Watson?” Molly asked.  
“not really.” I answered before putting a bandage over his scrape. I stood up and said “Go take a shower, and replace the bandage. Clean it every day and replace the bandage, and be sure not to let it scab over, keep it moisturized. Don’t want you getting sick on us.” I turned to molly “and what would you have me do, Doc?”  
“Take a shower, clean any minor scrapes, and come back and see me if that cough persists.”  
With that, Sherlock and I left for separate showers. I was glad that we would soon be returning to the ship, so I could finally have my private quarters back. As I lay there, reading an e-book, Sherlock groaned out. “I’m. So. Bored.”  
“Read, then.”  
“Would you read to me?”  
I opened my mouth to retort, but when I looked at his face I saw that he was completely serious, and so instead of belittling his request, I read to him the book I had been reading. Oddly, he never complained once throughout the entire time spent reading to him. I had to put the device down, though, when it was time to get on our gear and start mining.  
It was sort of dreadful. I had wanted to be a doctor, but here I was, on some alien planet, mining and serving more as a security officer than anything. I often had to keep my coworkers in line as we mined. It was hard labor, and It was not fun, but it was not too bad. It could have been way worse anyway, I suppose.  
We all looked like we could’ve been on some sort of magazine, we were all glistening with sweat as we darted through the blast zone collecting materials. I admit, It’d be an odd magazine, but I’ve seen odder. Sherlock always looked like the sort you’d see on the cover of a magazine, either because he would’ve done something crazy or his good looks and even better fortune.  
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of something rather interesting. “score” I muttered as I walked swiftly over to the exposed vein of copper ore.  
As I steadily worked on removing the dirt, rubble, and stone from the surrounding area, preparing to mine the ore vain, I saw Sherlock finish up whatever he was doing. He trotted over to me. “Wait, Sherlock, let me mine this.”  
“Wouldn’t it get done faster if we worked together?” he said, looking a bit disappointed.  
“No, no… well, I could use the time to mine more but, I think I’ll earn a bigger bonus this way.”  
“Well, that’s a bit greedy.” He scoffed.  
“Hm. Then, let’s share it. I’ll make a bigger bonus on this alone then we would collectively if we mined it together, so, I’ll treat you to dinner on the ship. How about that?”  
“Hm. Good Idea.” He said, before wandering off to mine some more. Just like that.  
I was laying in bed, restless, sweaty, and eager to get back on the ship. I wrote up my paperwork but there was no point in checking my credits since I couldn’t use them on the uncomfortable base. I could take a shuttle back up to the ship but there wouldn’t be any point, there’d be nobody to cook the meals I’d pay for, or even to chat with. Even though we are a skeleton crew, there are still only five people up there. Monitoring, Repairing, Standing by.  
We had another week on the dwarf planet, It was against our contracts to even bother giving up the mining effort before a week of hard work. We weren’t really there for the minerals. We hadn’t come solely for the money. We all came for the adventure, the exciting prospect of exploring space. I wanted to be free.  
“This is so dull!” Sherlock groaned, as if reading my mind.  
“And hot, too. I miss the climate control on the ship.”  
“So, Afghanistan or Iraq?”  
“What?”  
“It’s Afghanistan, right?”  
“Uh. Yea, I worked in Afghanistan, protecting civilians from terrorists. Got shot in the shoulder, though. Could’ve been a lot worse.”  
“You don’t look too  bad despite it.” He muttered.  
“What’s that? A compliment? From the great Sherlock Holmes? Must be my birthday.”  
He only chuckled in response.  
I relaxed on my back and glanced over at him.  
“So, what’s your story, then?”  
“Hmm? Oh. Personally I think my brother just wanted to make it harder for me to get access to drugs.”  
“So that’s why you’re off-planet?”  
“Well, I figured it’s gotta be more interesting than deducing the childhood woes of addicts on the streets.”  
“Is it living up?”  
“Not really. It’s interesting to conduct experiments in space, though.”  
“Ah yes, Molly’s Equipment. What kind of… experiments do you conduct?”  
“Right now, I’m seeing how long after death hair will grow.”  
“… Barring how odd a study that is, based on my understanding of the human body, Hair wouldn’t be growing at all after death. The cells stop replicating, so the dead cells that make up our hair couldn’t push through.”  
“…”  
I heard his lamp click off.  
“Goodnight, John.”  
He slumped down into the covers, looking incredibly embarrassed. I couldn’t help but laugh loudly. I took out my e-reading pad, and started to read. I peered above the light of the pad and past my illuminated eyelashes to see that he was still wide awake, and clearly uncomfortable. I straightened my back and began to read aloud.  
"There is an art to flying, or rather a knack. The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss. … Clearly, it is this second part, the missing, that presents the difficulties…"  
After I finished the chapter, both of us ending up laughing, he closed his eyes and started to hum. A while later while I listened to his tune, he stood abruptly and fished out something from the bag we had rescued from the blasts earlier. He started playing the violin to the tune he was humming. He seemed very calm and content. It was beautiful. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, the events of the day mirroring in my dreams. Much better than the nightmares, I must say.


	2. Placeholder (I hate phones)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't fix that it shows up completed so I have to have this up. Next time I'll replace this and add a third, OK? I am so sorry! My computer can't access ao3 so I've had to post this with my phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't fix that it shows up completed so I have to have this up. Next time I'll replace this and add a third, OK? I am so sorry! My computer can't access ao3 so I've had to post this with my phone.

Sorry!! Real chapter coming soon! Ugh

**Author's Note:**

> Comments fuel me.


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